Do you see that little woman with the pink bundle in her arms? She’s one of the first people I look for every Sunday morning. The first time I noticed her she was holding a little boy who was obviously of mixed race parents. I assumed that the young African-American woman sitting beside her was his mother, and she his devoted great-grandmother. I was so impressed with the image of her that morning. Times have changed, but old Southern... Read more
I was raised in a family that never discussed bodily functions. In fact, my mom still won’t acknowledge the fact that anyone pees except in the quietest whisper. Not even babies. It makes me laugh to watch her face as she walks across the room, newborn in her arms, to whisper to his/her mom, “I think the baby might be… (whispers)wet." She always whispers it, because heaven forbid anyone knows that babies might be wet or stinky. It’s the way... Read more
**I’m not looking for platitudes or reassurance here. I’m just giving you a window into the mind of a mom of a child with a chronic illness. Prayers are always welcome. Telling me why what I’m feeling is wrong is not.** Today marks one week until we see the geneticist. I’m fighting like hell to be positive and upbeat, but the panic attacks which happen dozens of times a day tell a different story. I’m terrified. I am way... Read more
Oh my gosh, I can’t stop laughing. I love Texans! Read more
I spent this past weekend in Houston at a CrossFit seminar for coaches who train adaptive (handicapped) athletes. It was an amazing chance to learn about how others function in a world which isn’t necessarily designed for them, and how to best help them with their ability to function within their own lives…and to do CrossFit because we love it and it’s fun. Saturday morning, I sat down at a breakfast table where two of the lecturers were deep in... Read more
I sat down last night to write a reply to someone who had written asking my opinion on the inappropriateness of guitar music at Mass. Why they would ask the opinion of someone who is notoriously un-musical, I can’t say. What I can tell you is that I love the sound of guitars in church. Maybe it’s being raised Catholic in the 70s and 80s, or the fact that my father and brother both play the guitar beautifully, but I... Read more
I blame my issues with the institution of marriage on being raised by a feminist. My mother and her friends weren’t the screaming angry abortion-on-demand kind of feminists that we all know and love. They were housewives who wanted more from life than traditional roles they had been raised to expect to lead. My own mother graduated Summa Cum Laude with a degree in computer programming in a time when women only became nurses or teachers. I cut my teeth... Read more
She sat in the pew next to me, occasionally glancing at the first Station of the Cross. “Who’s that?” She finally asked. “That’s Jesus.” I told her. “Oh, Jesus. Yes……and who’s that?” “That’s Pilate.” “Yes….Pilate.” She stared at the image for a while, and then said “Jesus is hurt.” “Yes, baby, He is.” “Oooh…Poor Jesus.” She crooned in her baby voice, before cocking her head to the side and stating matter-of-factly “Pilate is hurt.” I turned around to look more... Read more
**It’s late and I’m a little rant-y here. I use the word ass a couple of times, and imply the word bitch. If that kind of language offends you, please come back another day. If you read on, no complaining about my saltiness, because I warned you!** Before we go any further, let me point out my bona fides here. There is someone in my family who fits into any number “special” groups. I’m the mom of a big family,... Read more
Okay…so I had this whole clever plan to make a video of how stupid easy it it to make homemade mayonnaise. It really wasn’t for you, it was for a friend of mine who doesn’t believe me that it only take about 45 seconds to whip it up and I thought to myself “Self, you need a blog post for today anyway…so maybe the internets don’t know how to make mayonnaise either.” Then I was all… “SCORE!” Then I... Read more
Shoved to Them
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